


Three Cheers for the Horrible Weather of Winterfell

by Oli



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 01:46:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oli/pseuds/Oli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An innocent hunting trip in the woods can turn into something much different when the perfect weather passes overhead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Cheers for the Horrible Weather of Winterfell

**Author's Note:**

> These lovely characters belong to George R.R. Martin.

The day was a cold and wet myriad of grey and blue. The air was heavy with moisture and thick fog could be seen in the distance. Arya and Gendry had taken leave of Winterfell midmorning to dapple in some hunting, which had proved to be a comforting past time for Arya. Gendry rode behind her, as he always had. He didn't mind though, he enjoyed watching her sway fluidly atop her destrier, the subtle curves of her body motioning back and forth like a metronome. The way she had grown from closed child to blossomed woman had not gone unnoticed, and many a time Gendry had found himself trying to force stirring images of her without her garb to the back of his mind. _Sometimes_ it worked.

Deep into the forest they had managed to snare a few rabbits, nothing too impressive, when they decided an intermission was in order to nourish themselves. Arya broke the loaf of bread they had brought in half and gnawed on her piece quietly. Gendry loved how Arya didn't bother with polite courtesies around him, as a young lady should. It was unique - _she_ was unique. Arya took a handful of water by a nearby stream and gulped it down, it was cool as it flowed past her lips, dribbling by the taught corners of her mouth and down her chin. Gendry swallowed at the sight, oh to be a drop on her lips. _Stop it!_ he thought to himself, _this is no time to surrender to fantasies._ He would never admit it was time to surrender to fantasies. He continued to tie the horses to a low lying branch on a tree, distracted as he was.

"Hey" he felt a poke from behind, "Fanphy a wiffle sword pay?" Arya - a chunk of bread plugging her mouth and obscuring her words - was holding out her sword, thin and long as Needle had been, but bigger to accommodate her grown body. A sprinkle began to fall from the sky. 

Gendry revealed a wry smile and tapped her sword with his own, the both of them discarding their cloaks for better movement. Soon the sky began to cry, as if in protest to the playful sword fight, lightly at first but every drop proved heavier, thicker, multiplied. They parleyed back and forth and back and forth, chests beginning to heave under the weight of their movements. Arya lunged forward to strike, but Gendry had danced this dance before with this headstrong little creature. With a smirk he parried, then attacked. Arya leapt back defensively, but overshot and her right foot landed straight in the ice cold brook. Under the waters surface were rocks, slimy with algae and without grip to the human foot. Being so balanced on her feet Arya managed to save herself, however Gendry's attempt at his own clumsy rescue involved them both barrelling into the stream when he himself slipped. Arya was sandwiched between him and the iced stream bed.

"SEVEN HELLS! What'd you do that for?!" Arya screamed at the cold shock. 

She stood up along with Gendry "I was trying to stop you from falling!" he shot back, looking down at his own soiled clothes. He muttered to himself in frustration, however all notions of anger fled quickly when he looked up and saw Arya, her clothes completely suctioned to her petite body from the water. The chill of the river had made her nipples hard and very noticeably protruded through her drenched shirt. He felt his face flush, wondering how he could feel this hot so suddenly after such a cold bath. 

The rain had only proven to make thing worse, it had become a full fledged downpour around them and in the shallow distance thunder could be heard grumbling. Before Gendry could open his mouth to tell Arya to cover herself before she caught her death a flash of immensely bright light cracked down from the sky like an electric whip and hit a nearby tree.

"RUN!" Gendry shouted and grabbed Arya's hand before she could argue. The scare of the lightening had frightened the horses into bolting, leaving the two to themselves by the mountain wall. 

From the comfort of an overhanging rock ledge they watched their horses flee, a look of disbelief on both their faces. Gendry could feel the stupidity gnawing at him, knowing it was his being distracted by Arya that lead to such a shoddy knot on the horses reigns. He tried to make up for it by dashing quickly to their fur cloaks they had expelled to the ground. Just as quickly he ran back to find a shivering Arya, her skin growing pale and lips losing their pretty pink colour.

"You're going to freeze to death like that, here." he wrapped her cloak around her but her shivering was more determined.

"My fingers and toes feel funny." Arya complained.

Gendry took hold of them in his own hands and rubbed quickly to entice heat, staying close as he could to her body. "They're like ice." He cupped her fingers to his lips and blew warm air on them, trying to coax circulation back into them. he knew soon numbness would envelope her, then lethargy and frostbite.

There was no dry wood for a fire so Gendry lay his own cloak down and looked at Arya. He paused, already embarrassed by what he was about to say; "You n-" he faltered "You need to take off those wet clothes."

Arya paused, a little shocked but mostly overtaken by his boldness; Gendry had never been this forward. "I'll be fine." she replied wearily.

"No, you'll be dead. At least if you keep those clothes on you will be. Without horses we'll be on foot and that will take the other half of the day to make our way back." Gendry argued. This wasn't how he wanted this to happen. He had always wondered about her form under her breeches, but sopping wet in the forest hadn't been his first inclination.

Arya kept her silence as she stared at him, then grumbled "Turn around" in a low voice.

Gendry averted his eyes and waited. he could hear her peeling her clothes off her body and a wet flop as they hit the ground. He wanted so badly to turn his head, only for a second, just to catch a glimpse, that's all he would ever need. He kept his eyes pointed to the ground though, closed even then to avoid the temptation. He could hear another shuffle and Arya was sandwiched again, only this time between the two fur cloaks. She turned on her side and huddled into a ball so small she looked a child again. Her ears perked up when she herself heard shuffling. There was another wet plop to the ground and soon she heard footsteps approaching her. The cloak overtop her shifted and she felt a burst of cold air followed by the instantly cool feel of damp skin against her own.

"What do you think you're doing?" Arya asked, turning herself about to see if what she suspected was happening surely had. Gendry was under the cloak with her, bereft of shirt. When she turned she was immediately distracted by his shoulders, then his collar and neck, then down further to where his chest disappeared under the covers, to which moment she realized she was wearing even less than he was. Whatever blood was still shifting within her body quickly ran to her face in a very noticeable blush.

"The furs will only keep you warm enough if you have dry clothes, but not just skin, let alone wet skin."

Arya knew he was right, so she simply turned back around with another grumble. "Watch those hands, yours are cold too." she groused. Her back was presses hard against his chest. It felt like rough sinew and muscle, but it was so warm that she couldn't help but wriggle against it to get as close as possible. She could feel his heartbeat, it seemed fast, and growing faster. She could smell him too. Between the damp air and musty fur of the cloaks she could smell Gendry's smoky flavour, soaked into his skin from years of hammering at the forge. She liked it, it was part of him and she liked it.

Finally Gendry could feel Arya's shivers fading away, the warmth passing between them growing hotter and sweatier under the fur. With the rising temperature came comfort and languor. Unfortunately while Arya curled up like a kitten in a lap Gendry was still trying to figure out what to do with his hands. Nowhere seemed like it would plausibly keep him from eventually giving in and fondling her. He ultimately rested his hand on her hip, hoping the temptation wouldn't be too strenuous. A small sigh escaped from Arya, _is she falling asleep?_ Gendry couldn't believe it, was she really that comfortable with him? Right now? He could hear his own heartbeat and she was drifting to sleep!

He moved his hand onto her stomach, his muscles flexed as he pulled her close. He rearranged the fur cloak atop them and could swear he brushed against her nipple, still hard from the cold he assumed. He could feel his pants growing tighter, his cock becoming increasingly swollen. He had dreamt and fantasized about this many times before. Sometimes even when he would relieve himself with his own hand, there was usually a quiet "…Arya…" that trickled from his lips towards the end. Arya shifted again, wriggling as deep as she could into Gendry's chest and by associated anatomy his pelvis too.

_Gods…_ he thought as she squirmed. He couldn't help it, he had to feel part of her. He moved his hand back to her stomach and buried his face in her neck. He took a deep breath and took in her scent. She smelt sweet to him, despite always being covered in dirt and wearing old clothes. She sighed again when he squeezed her, and he could hear her emit a small murmur of "Gendry…" after.

He wanted to hear his name again, he wanted her to scream it as he plunge into her as deep as he could, he wanted to hear it echo throughout the woods as he made her climax. "Arya…" he whispered, she moaned lightly in response. He cupped her breast with her hand began to gently massage it. It was small, but firm, the now soft nipple getting hard again as he rolled it between his thumb and index finger.

Suddenly she took his hand with both of hers and he knew she wasn't asleep. _Was she just playing at it?_ he asked himself, terrified that she might scream at him for touching her so provocatively, wishing he could have staved off as he pictured her barring him from Winterfell forever. Arya turned, her eyes black pools of pupil "Gendry…" she started.

"I'm sorry m'lady I--"

"Don't call me that!" She squeezed his hand, "I'm Arya to you."

"Arya, I didn't mean to fondle, but you need to get warm." he tried to lie about his intentions.

"Am I warm here?" she put his hand back upon her breast.

Gendry flushed, suddenly his ears were full of nothing but the rushing of blood. "Y-yes." he stuttered.

"Am I warm here?" she moved his hand to her upper hip.

"Yes m'l-- Yes." he kept flushing. What was happening? Was he dreaming?

"And am I warm here?" she repositioned his hand again, this time resting between her legs. The heat emanating from her pelvis was unmatched. Gendry gulped, trying to get his wits, wondering if it was really Arya Stark who had just placed his hand betwixt her thighs. He could feel his pants grow smaller again, his cock had become so hard it was growing uncomfortable in his breeches. This _was_ a dream, wasn't it? This opportunity could never fall in front of him so easily.

"Wha-" he murmured.

"Don't you know when a girl is giving you permission, stupid?"

"I just-" he flustered, "Arya, what are you doing?" he asked, despite how obvious her intentions were from her previous statement.

"Don't tell me you haven't though of it. I've thought of it plenty." she pushed herself into his body even closer, she could feel the protrusion at his groin, it excited her, "Just never thought of it with cold hands." she smiled.

Gendry couldn't do it; he couldn't keep himself from her lips any longer, those lips that were smiling at him so sweetly, those lips he had thought of a hundred hundred times before. He pressed his mouth onto hers and was greeted quite willingly. They kissed rapidly, Arya's mouth parting to invite his tongue in to dance with hers. They swirled and darted, tasting every morsel offered to one another. _She does taste sweet_ Gendry thought. He remembered his hand between her legs and began to explore. Arya moaned at the touch of him, rocking her hips to his hand, he could tell that she wanted something deeper, but he wasn't going to be hasty with her. He wanted to nibble away at her and savour this while it lasted. He rubbed her clit with his thumb, swirling around clockwise, while two of his fingers entered her lower lips. It was so wet and hot, Gendry had no problem slipping his fingers in and out of her, reaching as deep as he could. Arya's moans had gained volume, every once in a while she would chew her lower lip to stifle herself. Gendry plunged his lips onto hers again, biting her lower lip. "I wondered why you always did that, now I know it's because you taste so sweet." he smiled at her. Arya's eyes fluttered and she blushed.

Something seemed wrong here, Gendry's breeches were still intact on his body. Arya hastily fumbled with the strings trying to get them off. She got them just just loosened enough to slip her hand inside and grasp his cock within her fingers. She couldn't believe how large it had gotten, how firm yet soft and smooth it was. Gendry moaned when she touched him and it was like music to her little ears. They matched nicely with her own moans she couldn't keep at bay as he kept slipping his fingers inside her. She moved her lips to his neck, showering his skin with small kisses, noting that just behind the ear seemed to make him shudder a little, or was just her hand stroking him that was doing it? She rolled her thumb around the tip of him and a small shiver crept upon his body. 

"I want to feel inside you." Gendry admitted, prying his hand from her thighs to invite other bodily options. His fingers were slick with her wetness, he ran his tongue along them to lap her up, wondering if she tasted so sweetly there too.

Arya tried to finish removing his breeches, which Gendry kicked off as soon as he was able. She wrapped a leg around him and pulled herself close, pressing her cunt onto his cock, grinding greedily against him. Gendry shuddered again, anticipating the myriad of pleasures on the threshold. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"I've been ready for a long time, Gendry." she smiled and kissed him again, not roughly this time, but like a sweet invitation. 

He rolled her onto her back, enveloping her small body with his broad shoulders. She had never felt safer. He positioned himself accordingly, pressing his cock into her lips, parting them slowly as she moaned for him. He proceeded slowly, he didn't want to hurt her. Arya slowly clawed his back, her hands resting high on his hips and pulling lightly. _She was always impatient_ he smiled to himself. 

Gendry kept pushing and pulling, slowly making his way deeper inside of her until he felt a barrier. "Wha-" he had forgotten about her maidenhead.

"I…" Arya started sheepishly, "I haven't yet…"

Gendry's eye grew larger at the realization she was his first lover. He cleared his throat and kissed her nose, "I'll be careful." He pierced through the obstruction and Arya winced. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

"Wasn't as bad as I expect--" she was cut short by her own gasp, Gendry had started moving again and the sudden rush of pure pleasure had caught her off guard. She smiled and resumed tugging at his hips, urging him forward. They kissed, lips pushing and pressing one another, tongues intermingling and hands rushing over each others bodies, freely exploring their skins. Gendry's pace had quickened, with every thrust into her tight slit Arya would emit a small moan that gained pitch the faster he went. He wanted so badly to explode inside her but he didn't want to stop. "Oh, Gods, Gendry…!" she howled as her back arched and he could feel her release. Her nails dug into his skin as he kept thrusting fervently. He lay his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes, watching them close in ecstasy then opening to drink in his image. Heartbeats and breathing increased in tempo, knowing he was close to climax he pounded her even harder, grunting lowly each time, bringing a hand down to rub where their bodies linked. Arya's moans got more enthusiastic, if it was even possible, another flush of rapture overtook her body as he slammed into her again and again and again. Gendry couldn't take it anymore. Having her writhe beneath him, call his name in groans and gasps, feeling how slick he had made her from bringing her to her peak once already, it was _too much_. He pressed his lips onto hers just as he felt all her muscle convulse and her back arch again. He released himself with a final hard plunge. They both muffled moans as he spilled his seed, Arya's inner muscles milking him happily. His need for air got the better of him and he removed his lips, panting from the performance. Arya's chest heaved under him, trying to catch her own breath. She kissed him a dozen time on his face before his head collapsed on her collar. He could hear her heartbeat, _thump thump thump_ , it was rapid enough to encourage his ego and he smiled to himself. He stayed inside her as long as he could, eyes closed and ears open to the forest, the rain, and Arya's heart. He heard a final "Gendry…" fall from her lips before they both succumbed to sleep, exhausted from the days activity. 

**Author's Note:**

> Something I wrote when feeling inspired. It's my first fic on here and I hope you enjoy it :)


End file.
